The Honor of Spies

"The president was having breakfast in the main dining room. He saw everybody arrive. He's coming here."

Eyebrows were still being raised when el General de Division Arturo Rawson--a good-looking, silver-haired man in his fifties with a precisely trimmed mustache--walked into the room. The president of the Argentine Republic was in uniform.

Everyone stood up and came to attention, everyone more quickly than Inspector General Nervo.

"Relax, gentlemen," Rawson said. "Good morning." He smiled at each man individually. "If I didn't know you all so well, I'd think I'd come upon a meeting of conspirators. What's going on?"

No one replied.

Finally, Nervo broke the silence.

"Mi general," he said, "you have a crazy Nazi coronel who is about to start a civil war."

"And which crazy Nazi coronel would that be, General Nervo?" Wattersly answered for him.

"Schmidt, Senor Presidente. My cousin, el Coronel Erich Schmidt of the 10th Mountain Division."

"You agree with General Nervo, Edmundo?" Rawson asked.

"Yes, sir, I do."

Rawson looked at Martin.

"And what does General Obregon think about all this? And where, incidentally, is he? Why is he not here? And why are we all not in the Casa Rosada or the Edificio Libertador?"

El General de Division Manuel Frederico Obregon was director of the Bureau of Internal Security.

Martin came to attention.

"I haven't told General Obregon, Senor Presidente," Martin said.

"Why not?" Rawson said.

Nervo answered: "He doesn't swim too well with his hands tied, Senor Presidente. None of us do."

Rawson glared at him for a moment before softly asking: "And you think that would have happened?"

"I didn't want to take the chance," Nervo said.

Rawson exhaled, then looked at Martin.

"If you had taken the BIS and the promotion to general that went with it, Martin, when I offered it to you, you wouldn't have this problem now, would you?"

"With respect, sir, that wouldn't have worked," Martin said.

"I shouldn't be talking to any of you," Rawson said. "General Nervo, you should have taken these frankly incredible suspicions of yours to the interior minister. Martin, you know you should have taken these suspicions to General Obregon--"

"At this moment, Senor Presidente," Nervo interrupted him, "Schmidt is leading a ten-truck convoy toward Mendoza."

"Mendoza? What's going on in Mendoza?"

"Well, for one thing," Nervo said, "the arms cache that the late Coronel Frade established on Estancia Don Guillermo is there. And he wants that. And then I think he wants to watch the execution of Don Cletus Frade."

" 'The execution of Don Cletus Frade'? Did I hear you correctly, General Nervo?"

"Yes, sir, you did."

"That's preposterous! Why would Schmidt want to execute Cletus Frade?"

"Schmidt won't be the executioner, Senor Presidente. That honor has been reserved for SS-Hauptsturmfuhrer Sepp Schafer. But I think Schmidt would really like to watch."

"What the hell are you talking about, Nervo?" Rawson snapped.

"Well, what SS-Brigadefuhrer Ritter Manfred von Deitzberg told Schmidt was that Don Cletus had been sentenced to death by a summary court-martial for ordering the execution of his father, who had nobly refused to ally himself with international Jewry."

"I can't believe my ears. The only von Deitzberg I know is that German general who was here--who came here--to offer the condolences of the German officer corps on the death of Jorge Frade."

"Same chap, actually," Wattersly said. "But he's not really a German general, but in the SS. He's Himmler's chief adjutant. And this time when he came back here, he came by U-boat--by submarine."

"By submarine! That's preposterous!"

"I saw him come ashore at Samborombon Bay, Senor Presidente," Martin said.

"Why didn't you arrest him?"

"At the time, I wanted to see what he was up to, sir."

"And I agreed at the time," Nervo said.

"And when I learned of this, I agreed with Martin, Senor Presidente," Wattersly said.

"And so did I, sir," Lauffer said.

Rawson was silent for a long moment.

"When I walked in here just now, I jokingly said something to the effect that if I didn't know you all so well, I'd think you're conspirators. It's a damned good thing for you that I do know you all so well; otherwise I would call for the Policia Militar to haul you off to Campo de Mayo for confinement pending court-martial.

"But what we are going to do now is this: You are going to tell me everything. And I mean everything. I think we'll start with you, Martin, if you please."

"And Peron and von Deitzberg are now in San Martin de los Andes?" Rawson said fifteen minutes later.

"They are en route, sir," Martin said. "They and their lady friends."

"And what are they going to do when they get there?"

"I have no idea, sir," Martin said. "But I don't think they went there for the trout fishing."

"Is there some way you can put them under surveillance from the moment their airplane lands?"